And They Lived Happily Ever After
by Kodiak Bear Country
Summary: Slightly AU episode tag for Childhood's End, with some dark material, focusing on the McKaySheppard friendship. [COMPLETE]


AN: This is a short episode tag for Childhood's End, and I'm classifying this fic as AU, because I haven't seen the episode in a fair amount of time, and also it's making assumptions on Sheppard's background, which we have only gotten limited information. This was a specific request from a dear friend, with a set scenario she wished to see. I took the challenge because leaping out of my comfort zone helps me to grow as a writer. I hope you can enjoy it for what it is. Dedicated to you Shelly, may you forever challenge me, and keep me going!**  
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**And They Lived Happily Ever After**

Or so, that's how all the good stories end. But it wasn't how my story ended. I shoved my coat into the chair with more energy than it required, just because…just because it felt good to let some of that emotion out. It'd been exactly three hours, twenty-nine minutes, and forty seconds, since we'd gated back from the planet where the kids killed themselves. Goddamn kids, killing themselves, in some whacked out ideal of population control, but they thought it was a sacrifice to protect the others. A noble sacrifice. They were wrong.

"Major Sheppard, the briefing has started, were you going to join us?" asked Elizabeth Weir, speaking to me over my radio. Everyone in Atlantis had the little earpiece, and wore it almost continuously.

I gave the chair another kick…just because, and tapped the earpiece. "I'm on the way."

Later, in the corridor after the briefing… 

"Major, hold up!"

I looked over my shoulder, not surprised to see McKay tailing after me. I'd been curt in the briefing, and I know he wanted an explanation. "Not now, okay," I said, hoping he'd take the hint.

McKay, take a hint. Oh how the mighty have fallen. He focused on me like a dog on a steak bone. "What's with you? You hardly said two words beyond what was required, and you were rude."

Hello pot, meet kettle. I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm allowed to have my moments."

"No, you're not," refuted McKay, and I swear he was doing it just to be obstinate. "Are you going to talk, or do I need to get Beckett involved?"

Bastard. He pulled the Doctor Kildare card, and he knew I'd cave if he did. Little did he know, Heightmeyer was probably more up this alley than the lovable Scotsman. I say loveable because I'm not a current resident in the infirmary, and I had a healthy appreciation for him whenever I was on this side of the world.

I sighed, and ran a hand through my hair, thinking maybe McKay wasn't so far off the mark after all. I looked at my watch. "You got a few minutes?" I asked.

For being a geek, he's pretty damn perceptive. He got a blank look, and nodded. "A few."

I grabbed his arm, and steered him towards the balcony. The place where us wounded hearts flocked to when we needed to heal. I guess this counts. Old wounds still bleed if you pull the scab hard enough.

We found a spot to sit, against the wall. I wondered why no one had thought to put chairs out here, but maybe it's because no one had thought to pack outdoor equipment. Rather shortsighted, but there you have it. "Those kids, they were killing themselves," I started, and I could feel the anger returning with a strong surge of every emotion a human being can experience in their lifetime.

McKay was looking a little confused, but he nodded. "It's probably what kept them alive for so long."

"Maybe," I said. I'd been thinking. It would've taken a lot of years to outgrow that shield. My gut was telling me whoever had instituted that policy had been a sycophant. Even a longer lifespan, why so young? "But I don't think so."

"What you think doesn't matter. Besides, why are you so worked up about this? You made a difference. Because of you, they are going to consider their options, possibly change their entire civilization."

I opened my mouth to say something, and then shut it. It wasn't only me. McKay had managed to fix that shield at the last moment. If he hadn't…there wouldn't be any civilization to change. "You played a hand also," I pointed out.

"Yeah, well," McKay looked almost embarrassed. "We're a team. That's what a team does."

I smiled. "Glad to see those lessons kicking in."

He didn't say anything. I guess he figured I had brought him out here for something, and I'd get to it, which considering this was McKay, was saying a lot. Usually he was all bluster, and hardly let you get a word in sideways. Every now and then he surprised me, like now. Where he seemed to see more than you thought he would.

"This mission…it hit a little close to home," I admitted, and it wasn't without some trepidation. Very few people ever got into my space. Not since the incident, and especially not since I'd lost my buddies in Afghanistan. There's only so much pain a guy is willing to open himself up for.

Sure, I put out an optimistic air. And I did care, always cared…maybe too much, but I didn't let myself open. I didn't care about people in the respect of letting them become something to me. I'd suffered too many losses. I'd hurt too much. And yet, here I was, doing it again, even though I'd sworn I wouldn't. And then, to come face to face with a bunch of kids hell bent on offing themselves before they were out of puberty. Shit. Talk about psychological baggage.

"Suicidal kids?" asked McKay, with a sarcastic edge, because he didn't see the connection.

I couldn't do this. I hadn't known McKay long enough. Sure, it seemed there was something there. Some bond of friendship that had cropped up out of nothing, and taken me by surprise, but I wasn't ready to spill my guts. Not like this. I stood up, brushing off my pants. "Forget it, not important," I said.

"Right, it's not important, but you dragged me out here to confide, I'm touched, by the way, and now you're going to clam up?" McKay pulled me back down. "Come on, throw me a bone. I've never had anyone trust in me enough to talk about things. Don't ruin my first time."

I couldn't stop the bark of laughter. "Wouldn't want to blamed for that," I assured him. Childish innuendo aside, that kind of touched me. "Look, it's…I had a really bad experience as a kid. This mission brought a lot of that back to the surface."

"You?" McKay was looking at me with incredulity. "Seriously, you're always so…I don't know…upbeat. You remind me of a kid I knew in school. He never stopped smiling, right up until he died from leukemia."

Well, that's depressing. "Thanks, McKay," I drawled, trying not to let it show how close to home he hit.

He seemed to realize his faux paus. "Oh, sorry…that was probably insensitive, wasn't it?"

I sighed, and drew up my knees, hugging them tight. "Don't worry about it. I'm not keeping score."

"Well, if you were, then pushing me off the balcony has to count for at least two, so bear that in mind," McKay smiled smugly.

"You told me too!" I retorted.

He paused, and I could see the mental wheels turning. "Fine, but you still shot me."

I started to disagree on that one, but then bobbed my head in a motion of reluctant agreement. "Okay, you got me there."

"Anyway, you were saying," he changed the subject back to the matter at hand. I kind of wish he hadn't.

"I wasn't, really."

"Maybe you should."

Touché for the physicist. He really was getting better at this social stuff. He still managed to put on a good act for the rest of Atlantis, but a few of us, well…we got to see the real Rodney. The vulnerable, poignant, and caring guy who risked his life to save everyone, and yet, still managed to whine and bitch about it the entire way. Not a lot of people could pull it off, but he did, and with flair.

"I tried to kill myself." Like dropping the A-bomb. Total and complete shock met my revelation. "I was fourteen. Thought that I was only a painful reminder to my Dad of what he'd lost. Figured, things would be better if I was gone. It didn't help that the pain of living every day was eating me alive." There. I'd done it. I'd gotten the worst of it out. I didn't exactly feel better, though. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea.

McKay had been rocked. I could tell. He took a hand up to his head, and then dropped it again, as if not knowing quite what to do with himself. "Jesus, Major. A little warning next time," he said, and I could see I'd seriously stunned him.

But still, a little compassion. "Sorry I upset your delicate sensibilities," I snapped.

He turned those wide eyes back on me, and I instantly regretted my sharp words. "That's not what I meant. What the hell happened to cause that…disaster?"

I straightened my legs, feeling the ache in my knees from having them in one position to long. Getting old sucked, but at least I was…getting old, that is. "When I was thirteen, I had this lava lamp. I had begged my mom for it, but she kept saying no, that they were too dangerous." I began but stopped. Damn, this was going to be hard. I had tried as little as possible to think of these events in the intervening years. It wasn't always possible, but I'd done pretty good at repression. "My Dad bought it for me. I did exactly what they told me not to, I left it on."

I could see McKay knew where this was going. I mentioned how perceptive he was, hadn't I? "Yeah, it caused a fire. I had fallen asleep on the couch watching the Late Show. Next thing I know smoke is everywhere. Our fire alarm hadn't gone off. No one could explain it later, but you now, these things happen." I suppose my narration of events was staying fairly clinical. I was trying for that rote process. I'd done it enough times after the fire to be able to spit it out now, like a word processor spewing out input.

McKay's face had paled as the implications became clear. "Did "

I knew what he was asking. Did anyone make it out besides me. "Just me and Dad. He'd been working a night shift. I tried to get them…I couldn't see, couldn't breathe, but I wasn't going to give up. The Fire department had other ideas," I said wryly. "They dragged me out, and wouldn't let me go back." Here, I knew my unattached approach failed, utterly, because even after all those years, the hurt was as fresh as yesterday. The 'what-ifs' replayed over and over again, every single time I allowed myself to think about that night. Which is why I didn't.

"That's tragic, but killing yourself? I don't see it, Major."

I knew that McKay wasn't trying to cause more pain, and that his words were actually a compliment, because he was right. I had a strong inner core, and under normal circumstances, I could've risen above losing almost all my family in a house fire, but for the circumstances to come after the investigation. I regarded McKay, and I knew my features betrayed the raw hurt, anger and loss of all those years ago. "He blamed me," I explained, and I knew my voice shook. "The investigators discovered the source of the fire. My lamp, McKay, _mine_! My stupidity cost my family their lives. Do you have any idea what it's like to live with that, every day, and have your only family member left, blame you each time he looks at you?" I felt the anguish in my words.

McKay's jaw clenched, and I could see the muscles flexing underneath his skin. "No, I don't," he said. He didn't say anything else, and it wasn't because he didn't care, or didn't know how to help, but because he knew I had more to say and I needed to get it out.

I took my pained stare off his, and focused on a scuff mark on the tip of my boots. "I got his gun," I said softly. "I was going to end it. I should've died in the fire with the rest of them. But, he found me. He found me, and you know what he said?" I laughed, but it was the harsh laugh of someone who doesn't know true humor, but I did, thanks to people in my life since then…people like McKay, and Elizabeth, and Beckett. "He took the gun and said that was the cowards way out, and he wasn't going to let me have that peace."

I drew up my knee, lost in the memory, and so missed the look of horror on McKay's face. "God, Major…"

I shook my head, rubbing my chin against the rough fabric on my knee, and realized I was probably giving myself a rug burn from the friction, minus the rug. I pulled my face back, and rubbed the sore spot. "Ironically, it was his anger that brought me to where I am today. Back then, I vowed to live with the pain as punishment, like he wanted. And I did. It hurt so fucking bad that every day was purgatory…but then I met people who cared." I looked up at McKay. "People like you, and I made friends, and I started healing. My _Dad_ didn't like that."

"Screw him," McKay ground out. "He was sick, Major, worse than you, because he took out his sickness on an innocent kid." Rodney was vicious, and it made me stare thoughtfully at him, wondering if he didn't have his own emotional scars.

"Ironically enough, that's what Jimmy said," I said. "He was one of my buddies killed in Afghanistan. More pain soared through my mind; mental grief that can sometimes hurt more than any physical wound a person can endure. "Don't you see, so much death, and I'm still here! Those kids…they have no idea what they're missing. If they don't vote to change their policies…"

McKay was sober, the anger of a few moments ago receded like the tide. "They will, Major. You gave them that option, _you_, not your Dad, or anyone else. You showed them that one man can make a difference, and showed them that life was to be valued, not thrown away."

I nodded, hoping he was right. "Ironic, isn't it," I said.

He looked confused. "What?"

"That life can be so very different than what you'd expect. I've spent all my life trying to make up for past screw-ups. I still do," I couldn't help smile over that. "But I am making a difference. For the first time in my life, I've got a purpose that makes the past stay in the past."

He nodded, and got to his feet, offering a hand up. He looked at his watch. "Want to get some lunch?"

"Hungry already?" I joked.

"You know how it goes, feed me and I don't bite so hard."

I laughed at the image. "You never bite, McKay. You're like a terrier…all bark, but inside you're the loyal lap dog."

McKay offered a look of mock indignation. "I don't know whether to be flattered, or insulted."

I threw a companionable arm over his shoulder. "Flattered, McKay…definitely flattered."

We started off the balcony, and he turned to look at me sideways. "Is that why you've got that 'no one left behind' mentality?"

I shrugged. Come to think of it, I'd never really given it much thought, but it made sense. "I suppose so. You know, you'd give Heightmeyer a run for her money."

McKay cringed, "No thanks. I'd have to deal with idiots like Kavanagh, whining about their nightmares over sharing his self-perceived glory."

I tried to put a face to the name. "That's the guy with the pony tail, right? The one who wanted to space us, instead of risking his life when we were stuck in the Jumper?" The rumor mill is amazing, especially on a small expedition like this, where almost everyone knows one another. A certain Czech had dropped information to McKay after we got back.

"That would be the one. If only we could space him," McKay said longingly.

We made a turn, heading towards the mess hall. "McKay, I'm shocked at you."

Unknown to both of us, a certain Elizabeth Weir observed our progress from the balcony, and out into the hall, and it was with a small, satisfied smile that she watched our bantering, and knew that I'd been put to rights. Thanks to a certain arrogant, and self-important man, that also happened to be my friend.

THE END 


End file.
